


Cheap Vodka

by writingandchocolatemilk



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: Drunkenness, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-21
Updated: 2015-08-21
Packaged: 2018-04-16 12:39:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 915
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4625646
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/writingandchocolatemilk/pseuds/writingandchocolatemilk
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“You’re his brother?” you manage, tongue too wide in your mouth. “He talked about you.”</p>
<p>“Good things, I’m sure,” he mutters, nudges Alfred with his foot. “Our father is going to be home, soon. He’s going to be pissed Alfred’s drunk.” He looks at you, and you stare back, unsure of what to say or do, because what could this other brother possibly be thinking about you? “Need a ride?”</p>
<p>“I do,” you slur, words too long. “Please.”</p>
            </blockquote>





	Cheap Vodka

**Author's Note:**

  * For [the-friendly-potato](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=the-friendly-potato).



Alfred, in retrospect, is sort of a dick.

You think this as you lay on the couch, watching the ceiling fade in and out. Your head is light and your stomach is rolling and you have a grin plastered to your face. But still, your heart feels heavy.

Alfred is passed out nearby, the bottle stolen from your garage empty in his hand. For all his talk, he was a lightweight. And you had too many too fast, and now you were wondering if you were going to throw up.

It’s the first time you see Matthew. You catch sight of him standing in the doorway, backpack over his shoulder, looking annoyed. He doesn’t give you a passing glance and as walks over to Alfred.

“Alfred.  _Alfred_.”

His words are soft, and they make you feel a little better.

“You’re his brother?” you manage, tongue too wide in your mouth. “He talked about you.”

“Good things, I’m sure,” he mutters, nudges Alfred with his foot. “Our father is going to be home, soon. He’s going to be pissed Alfred’s drunk.” He looks at you, and you stare back, unsure of what to say or do, because what could this other brother possibly be thinking about you? “Need a ride?”

“I do,” you slur, words too long. “Please.”

He watches you get to your feet, and it’s only when you stumbled over a game controller that Matthew takes your arm, grip warm and soft and firm. You smile at him, the rooms spinning, and you don’t realize he’s helping you outside until you feel the raindrops on your head.

“It’s raining.”

“Wow.”

You laugh, covering your mouth with your hand, and you stumble across the yard with him.

“You have a really nice house,” you say. “It has a nice—yard. Lots of grass. Lots of green.”

Matthew’s eyebrow twitches down, and he smiles. “My dad refuses to have anything less than a perfect lawn. In the spring, he’s all over with fertilizer, and he and my father get into screaming matches over which color flowers to plant.”

You’re having trouble with all the  _dads_  and  _fathers_. Everything is gray or green, and you’re thankful when you sink into a seat. It’s not Alfred’s car—too neat, no food wrappers. A little pine tree hangs from the review mirror, and you’re fascinated by it until Matthew opens the door and sits next to you.

You watch his hands, and the gearshift seems impossible complicated, but he handles it with ease.

It’s muggy in the car. The windows fog up. You tell him your address.

“How do you know Alfred?” Matthew asks.

“School. We have Algebra together.” You click your tongue, wishing you had a glass of water or another drink. “He said you’re not gonna’ be home for a while.”

“Hockey was canceled. I’m sure he also told you he was going to pay you for the vodka.”

“He’s not?”

Matthew shrugs. “He tells everyone that.”

That was one of the only bottles of vodka left—someone would notice it was missing. But you needed some cash, and Alfred had promised to share the bottle, and now apparently you weren’t getting  _anything_. The anger creeps through your brain like a fog.

“He said he would!”

“He’s kind of an asshole.”

You point. “He  _is_  an asshole! A  _major_  asshole.”

Matthew looks over. “You’re crying,” he says, and he sounds surprised and worried, and that just makes more tears roll down your cheeks.

“I am? I don’t mean to be crying.” You voice cracks, and you wipe away the tears and look down at them. “I don’t get drunk very much.”

“I’ve noticed.” You watch his profile, and he meets your eyes again and smiles. “I’m sorry my brother drank half your vodka.”

“’S okay,” you mumble. “Thank you for driving me.”

“No problem. I only have homework to look forward to, so.” He shrugs again. “Besides, it’s better than talking to a drunk Alfred. You’re much nicer.”

“I don’t feel well.”

Matthew looks over sharply. “Are you going to throw up?”

“No, I don’t—“

You slap a hand over your mouth, and Matthew curses and signals. It makes your stomach lurch, and as soon as the car slows, you try to kick the door open, but you forget to take your seatbelt off. Matthew fumbles with your lock and you hang over the side of the car for a second before he finally gets it.

You flop onto the wet pavement.

After a few minutes, you become aware of Matthew crouching next to you and rubbing your back. You let out a miserable moan.

“You’re getting wet,” you hiccup, rubbing the tears out of your eyes.

“I have a hood.” He flips up the hood of his sweatshirt, and you smile.

“You’re a good person.”

“Are you done?” he asks, and he helps you up and back into the car.

You sit there, rubbing your mouth off until Matthew hands you a wad of tissues. You thank him and wipe your face off, looking at the tissues when you’re done until he takes them and tucks them away, somewhere.

“Alfred said you’re a nerd.”

“He’s just in denial that he’s also a huge nerd,” Matthew reassures.

You pull up to your house, and Matthew helps you to the back door. You thank him and pat him on the shoulder and stumble inside, and you dream about pine trees and red hoodies and smiles and clean cars.

**Author's Note:**

>  **the-friendly-potato asked** : Helloooooo again!!! Do you still accept requests? If so, can you please do Canada x reader? The plot is entirely up to you :D Thank you!!!


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